


Scratch Lines

by BlairRabbit



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Attempt at Original ABO concept, Gen, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Sci-Fi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 20:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16374881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlairRabbit/pseuds/BlairRabbit
Summary: Human-kind is planet-less and the Blue Lion pilot-less. In an attempt to remedy the latter of these problems Keith saves a rare and dangerous creature called an Omega and learns secrets the Empire would do anything to keep hidden.





	Scratch Lines

     Keith wiped a steam of blood from a cut above his eyebrow panting furiously. Hefting his electrified staff upwards he spun it slowly from hand to hand surveying the last of his competition.

      They crawled from the far corners of the arena and most of them were slavering; not in their right minds. Some of the bigger ones were crying, their eyes unseeing and glassy.     

      The smell was doing it.

      Keith was doing his best to breathe through his mouth and ignore the silvery sparks of light caused by the stench. If he wasn’t careful the sparks would turn into full blown hallucinations and then he would risk going feral like the other Alpha’s around him.

     The nearest pit Alpha took Keith in with a glance and made for him at full speed. He was big, large shoulders and strong legs but Keith could tell he had gone smell-blind and it would make him easy to manipulate.

     Crouching down he waited for the Alpha to rush him, this late in the fight he was one of the only participant’s still coherent enough to use a weapon. Just two hours earlier Keith was dodging laser fire and flame-thrower blasts, now he just had to worry about the last of the zombified mushers.

     With a smooth motion Keith whipped his staff around sideways and electrocuted the stampeding Alpha’s neck: the sweeping movement a clean, concise arc. The big male danced on a wave of electricity and fell to his knees with a groan as he passed out.

     The thick crowd of arena spectators offered middling applause for the takedown. Maybe they were getting as tired of the violence as Keith was; probably not. He had witnessed fights on the other side of the pit and knew they could last ten hours or more and the crowds usually ate up every second.

     Somewhere distant a buzzer rang. Keith risked a look up at the clear, domed roof of the arena and caught sight of a hovering drone flashing orange and yellow lights. He knew these were clear-cut signals that he needed to end the free-for-all fight quickly.

     A cage was lowering down into the center of the arena and the last of the Alphas, ten of them Keith noted after a quick headcount, all turned to stare at it ravenously.

     The smell from the cage hit Keith a few seconds after the others and he grit his teeth hoping reverently that Slav’s suppressants worked as well as he boasted. From where he stood Keith could just make out the shape of the pit Omega in the lowered cage; From the voracious reactions of his opposition Keith could also tell that they were _bleeding_ it.

      Shiro had warned him that would be the case. Not only would they force the Om into a false Heat they would also stick or cut it, bleeding it out. If the scent of sex didn’t get the Alpha’s nice and violent the Om’s hypnic response sure would.

     The silvery sparks of smell were morphing now; a bad sign. the Omega’s ultimate weapon was getting into Keith’s blood and fucking with his brain. Shiro had tried to prepare him for this, he had warned him about the Om’s gift and tried to explain what the smell would be like but- Keith still wasn’t ready for the shock of the real thing.

     Omega’s were like unicorns because of the Empire so Keith’s experience with them was relegated to what others told him; a scattered collection of rumors and second-hand experience.     

      The smell of the Om itself, now that it was so close, was enough to knock Keith back on his ass for a few seconds even with his senses diluted by Slav’s chemical remedies. It smelled like- _wow_. It smelled like warm towels and sunshine on leaves and ocean breezes and…-

      A light blow to the side of Keith’s head knocked him out of his odor-induced daze and he shook himself as he turning to face the Alpha who had struck him; it was a woman, large and intimidating. She snarled and exposed her canines her pupils blown so wide they completely obscured the whites of her eyes.

_God, do I look like that?_

     Keith thought as he hissed back hackles raised. He dropped his weapon, it was out of charges anyway, and tried to look for higher ground. The smell was still wrapping around his brain again and with it came the first wave of full-blown synesthesia. The air began to fill with shapes Keith knew weren’t real and colors that threw off his balance.

     If he just went feral, gave himself over to his baser instincts the hypnic effects wouldn’t be so damn nauseating but… Keith knew that if he lost his sanity he would also lose his edge. If he ended up with his guts strewn around the arena the others would never forgive him. He had sworn up and down to come back in one piece and even with that promise and the countless hours of extra combat training he had barely gotten permission to go this pit mission solo.

     Closing his eyes to block out the strange visions Keith scaled up a pile of synthetic rocks placed in the pit to make the fight more interesting for spectators. Ears perked he listened for the sound of the approaching Alpha, trusting his muscles to react at the first scrape of boot on rock.

    There was a roar of approval from the crowd and Keith guessed some of the other Alphas were pummeling the snot out of each other to get to the Omega cage; Poor assholes.

     The noise of the onlookers almost drowned out the clipped steps of the charging female Alpha, but Keith caught the tumble of shale and lose pebbles at his back. Daring to crack open an eye he parsed the world through a wave of purple light coupled with the scent of violets. Keith only let it distract him for a moment before he pushed his hands into the rough stone and kicked sideways with all the strength in his lean body.

    He felt it connect, the toe of his heavy boot landing a solid strike to the charging Alpha’s nose. He felt the hard bridge of bone crunch through his shoe and the instant copper smell of her blood almost drowned out the all-encompassing flood of Omega pheromones.

     Slav’s suppressants were holding their own, but Keith wished Shiro had done a better job warning him about the synesthesia. Bile built up in the back of his throat and Keith leaned over the edge of the rock tower to bring up the contents of his stomach.

     Vertigo, phantom smells, color waves-he was only a few symptoms away from waking terrors. If confusion didn’t work and the Alpha’s were still on an Omega who didn’t want to be touched their smell would turn foul and the disconcerting hallucinations would turn into wide-awake nightmares.

     Keith forced his eyes open breathing through his fingers as he took in the near empty pit. The bodies of the injured and unconscious littered the outer edges of the arena. among them was a scattering of corpses but most of these had fallen to the traps in the pit itself and not at the hands of other contestants. So far none of the fatalities had been Keith’s fault.

     The Om’s cage was touching the ground now which meant there were only a few competitors left. Keith tried to spot them through his compromised vision and the blood-spattered playing field. The crowd was suspiciously silent and suddenly Keith could see why.

     There were only two of them left.

     It was just him and a ragged behemoth of an Alpha so far into scent-madness he was clawing at his own face and howling his rage to the sky. Keith felt spit start to drip down his chin and knew he only had a few minutes left before the Omega’s smell turned his mind or he would be chewed up by a man three times his size.

     Keith debated, scoured the ground around him for some sort of weapon. A rock would be better than nothing…maybe he could just knock the Alpha out? He really did not want to resort to killing unless it was entirely unavoidable; Even in dire conditions he was _supposed_ to be a defender, not a murderer.

     Picking up a stone with a shaky hand Keith wiped at his mouth and scrambled to the ground, drawing closer to the cage at the center of the ring. He tensed eyes on the remaining Alpha, waiting for the inevitable attack. The huge man turned away from the cage, from the Om inside and looked in Keith’s direction. For a brief second there was a flicker of something in his eyes, recognition or…something darker. This was quickly replaced by fear- a deep revulsion at something Keith could not see.

     He took a step back, then another, his hands raised in front of his scarred face. He swatted at invisible enemies and screeched like he was being attacked. The crowd began to laugh at this, like the man’s frightened pantomime was the most hysterical thing they had ever seen. Keith held his ground but felt his grip on the rock going slack.

     The Alpha collapsed to the ground and curled into a ball his knees pulled up to his chest as he whimpered and cried like a baby. The crowd went into fresh gales of laughter and the announcer’s voice boomed over an unseen speaker system.

     “Well it seems as if our last contestant has forfeited ladies and gentlemen! Number 670 is a slave participant and you know what that means!”

     Amid the thunderous, inarticulate reply of the crowd there was a brief flash of light from the muzzle of a gun high up in the guards walk at the edge of the arena. 

     Keith turned his head away as the blubbering alpha went silent. He dropped his rock as the Om’s cage was lifted brusquely from the arena.

      He barely noticed when he was declared the winner.

 

 

      Keith glared at the Galra jailer through a swollen eye and a splitting headache. He showed his teeth and grit out his words with difficulty, every moment fighting the urge to sink his teeth into the man’s neck.

     “What do you mean Ryou is _dead_? Before I signed up for the Games I submitted his name as my recovery request and it was accepted! _Ryou Gion!_ ”

     The jailer turned briefly to look at another, skinnier Galra typing away on a computer console. They looked up briefly and gave a shrug.

     “Records say that prisoner died in a camp several weeks ago. You're shit out of luck.”

      Keith paced and growled low in his throat.

     “And my second choice? Larmina Aojishi? Let me guess -she’s dead too?”

     The console Galran gave another half-hearted shrug and smirked at Keith.

     “Tell you what “Grand Champion”- Why don’t you go down to the cells and peruse. Pick anyone you find interesting and we’ll send you on your way.”

      Keith snorted seeing red, they had to be doing this on purpose; his reputation as a rebel must have proceeded him somehow.

     While he was recovering under a heal-lamp Keith had heard other surviving combatants whispering about him. Cheating had been a word used more times than he could count and hell, they weren’t exactly wrong.

      It would have been useless to try and explain he was doing this for the good of all of them. He wasn’t out to win his freedom, lay claim on a beta or stupidly try for an omega the Empire would never let him have. He was _trying_ to save the universe and it seemed to be fighting him every step of the way.

     It wasn’t fair that people died sure but that wasn’t his fault- not really. Shiro had told him a thousand times that was just how the pits worked. Keith knew from experience it was just how the Empire worked, how the universe worked. He felt shitty for what had happened to that Alpha slave, to the others but…

     With a frustrated sigh Keith touched his bruised side and finally nodded, posture slumping in defeat. He had no choice. He could be held for questioning if he didn’t get out of here fast. People had died, he had used top grade suppressants to win, and he couldn’t go back without something to show for his effort. Not when Shiro already had doubts about his competency.

    There had to be some intelligent beta worth taking in the prisoner barracks. They could always use another brain.

     “Fine. Show me the merchandise then.”

      The lower part of the prison was miserable and damp. The smell of blood, feces, and unwashed bodies hung like a fog over the hallway and Keith gagged coughing to get the scene out of his throat. He knew it would stick to his clothing and hair when he left and wondered how long he would have to wait until his next shower.

     At least until he got home…hours from now.

     The first few cells were packed end to end with all sorts of species that Keith didn’t recognize. They glared at him without acknowledgement or affability of any kind. They didn’t look as starved as some of the other prisoners he had seen in the past and certainly not as bad as the creatures he had seen on the planets with gulags.

     There were few humans in this particular prison population. Most of them had probably been forced into the arena for the blood fights. There was nothing the Galra liked more than seeing Alpha’s tussle. Well…nothing except Alpha’s ripping each other’s throats open.

     Maybe the guards had been telling the truth about Ryou and Larmina. They were both Alphas and if they had prisoner or slave status they would have been forced to fight to the death. Only Fremans, humans who owned themselves, could lose in the arena and still walk away blinking and breathing.

    The terrible smell grew worse as they went another floor deeper into the prison. The damp in the air became a chill as the walls opened onto natural carved rock hewn roughly into smaller cells. The jailer was starting to shoot impatient looks over his shoulder.

     So far Keith hadn’t seen a single thing that interested him. Most of the inhabitants seemed to be actual criminals; smugglers or space pirates that he didn’t want to associate with on a good day, let alone use his coveted get-out-of-jail-free pass to rescue.

     A familiar smell overcame the cold scents of rancid sweat and wet rock. Keith paused to peek through rusted bars into a dimly lit cell.

      The guard nudged his shoulder irritably.

     “We dump the dying into that cell kid. Nothing you would want in there.”

     Squinting into the dark Keith could see a body on the ground. It was shaking violently and breathing in huffing, sharp gasps. The smell that rose through the thin bars was a mix of blood and the last fizzling remains of artificial hormones.

      It was a pit omega.

     Keith raised an eyebrow at the Galran jailer.

     “Hey. Isn’t that the – thing in the cage during my fight? Aren’t you going to heal it? I thought Omega’s were valuable.”

      The Galran stretched his arms above his head and yawned until there were tears in his eyes. He could not have looked more disinterested if he tried.

     “Eh, that one isn’t worth the trouble it takes to heal. It’s been in too many fights, getting old by pit standards. Plus, it _bites_.”

     Pit Omega’s weren’t great stock to begin with. Keith knew that from things he overheard at base. Pit Om’s weren’t considered beautiful enough to be concubines and really what else was an Omega good for aside from scent farming and sex slavery? Most Om’s were killed at birth and those that weren’t were immediately sterilized.

    They weren’t permitted to breed by the Empire and it poised no problem considering Beta’s and Alphas made fine parents. Omega’s were redundant, costly and frankly unnecessary.

     And yet-Keith couldn’t stop himself from lingering at the doorway and watching the sad lump on the floor take its last struggling breaths. He didn’t have a good opinion of Omega’s but leaving any human to die alone seemed…wrong.

     “I’ll take it.”

     The jailer started to laugh shaking his head as a fang latched onto his lower lip.

    “No you won’t! All Om’s belong to the Empire kid. You know the law. You might have won the freedom of a slave but you haven’t won the freedom of Galra property.”

     “You said it was going to die anyway. Who’s going to miss it? I’m saving you the trouble of disposing a body; makes your day easier.”

      The Galra considered this. He looked at Keith, seemed to take in his tattered clothing, ratty hair and the damage he had taken from the fight. Keith knew he looked like a poor kid from some outlying nowhere planet. Not a person with access to the medical help to save a pit Om; that was by design after all.

       If someone higher up in the Empire chain of command suspected he was a rebel they hadn’t relayed the message to the grunts at the bottom. The jailer apparently saw what Keith wanted him to see and let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

     “If you want to waste your win on some pissing, moaning little pit dog that’s your business I suppose.”

     The jailer pushed his hand to the imprint reader on the side of the door and laughed when it jammed shoving his palm down harder until it scanned correctly. Popping open the door with a jerk he called into the echoing confines.

     “Guess what Mutt? You’re a free dog! Free to live out your last few minutes in the fresh air thanks to this kind gentleman. I think you met briefly.”

     Keith glanced at the Galra as he beckoned him inside. He narrowed his eyes distrustfully and the jailer snickered, reading his thoughts.

     “I’m not gonna slam you in. Just go and get the Mutt out and I’ll be done with the both of you.”

      Moving through the tiny space the smells of blood and chemical heat were even stronger in Keith’s nostrils. He gagged and kneeled next to the heaving body to get a better look. Up close it was clear the Om was an even rarer commodity: it was male. It was difficult to tell without better light, but he looked young, not far from Keith’s own age.

      Sliding his arms under the Om’s legs and shoulders Keith felt his side twinge in protest and bit his lip to keep from crying out. He hadn’t even realized how badly he had been hurt until after the fight was over; the magic of adrenaline.

     The Omega was feverish and barely coherent but the strangest thing about it was its silence. Even as Keith started to carry the skin and bones Om in his arms towards the exit it made absolutely no noise at all.

     In the light of the hallway the damage to the creature’s body was all too obvious and Keith felt slightly sick. One of the Alphas in the pit had managed to get a hand through the cage bars and onto the Om’s throat. They had squeezed until something broke, possibly its-his windpipe. Another, or the same, Alpha had twisted and broken his wrist.

     There was a long bleeding gash deep in the Omega's stomach. From the nature of the claw-like cut Keith guessed it was Galra made, probably the injury used to bleed the dog to the point of panic so his smell turned bad. The Om was wearing nothing but thin white rags, sacrificial clothes; Pit Omega clothing. It did very little to stem the bleeding.

     Despite all these injuries the creature managed to open his eyes and look up into Keith in wavery confusion. It's eyes, his eyes, were a stunning, ocean blue. The jailer thrust a mean hand onto the Om’s head ruffling his shaggy shoulder length hair and jostling his hurt neck.

     “Bye Mutt! We won’t miss your sorry ass around here that’s for sure.”

     The jovial demeanor vanished by the time Keith was escorted back to the door and the jailer threw an exaggerated salute.

     “Have fun burying that thing champ.”

      The door slammed, and Keith was alone outside the arena prison with nothing to show for risking his life but a half-dead Om and a shitty bunch of excuses. He looked down at the Om again in disbelief.

     Maybe he hadn’t even wanted to rescue it…maybe the Om had tricked him, doused the air with _rescue me_ pheromones or something. Omega’s couldn’t be trusted, the Alpha whimpering in fear in the pit dirt told Keith that much. The smart thing to do would be to throw it down and head back home and take the shower he so desperately wanted.

     The Om pulled in a raspy breath, eyes now firmly closed. He pressed towards Keith’s body deliriously, infection setting into the filthy claw marks on his abdomen. In bloody sweat-stained rags he seemed about as dangerous as a sick kitten.

      Keith groaned, shook his head and held the Omega against his chest.

     “I guess I bought you. I might as well make sure you stay alive.”

 

 

     By the time the castle was in sight the Om’s breathing had turned to a rattling whistle. 

     Keith had strapped him behind the single seat in his tiny shuttle and was trying to focus on anything but the horrible sounds the Omega was making in his damaged throat.

     The foreign smell of the fake heat had worn off a few hours back, but the rank aroma of the prison and the tell-tale whiff of death were only getting worse.

    Keith eventually pulled his shirt up over his nose just to keep his eyes from tearing. He tried repeatedly to convince himself this wasn’t a stupid mistake, but every new argument was ending in failure. It was _obviously_ a mistake.

     What did his team even know about Omegas? None of them had been raised around them. Hell, not even Shiro had met a real one outside of a pit. All the rumors Keith had ever heard about them in the market came rushing back to him swirling around in his brain.

      They smelled like skunks.

      The rubbed scent on everything like a cat.

      They were too stupid to be left alone and, worst of all, they loved to make turn Alpha’s against each other just for the fun of it.

      This factoid bothered Keith the most. Shiro was probably the most important person in the world to him, his adopted older brother. The last thing he wanted was to fight him like he had the slobbery pit Alphas.

     The Om made a low choking noise. Again, nothing vocal came from him. No words or moans, just exhalations of breath or broken wheezing. Maybe the throttling to his neck had hurt his vocal chords but Keith had a hunch he had been mute before this last event. He hadn’t made one sound in the cage.

     “Hang on er, Mutt? We’re almost home.”

      The Castle of Lion’s shone like a beacon in deep space.

     The blinking, blue light at the top of its highest tower was a welcoming sight to any traveler without Empire connections. Around the bottom of the Castle-ship an odd assortment of other ships, shaky covered structures, domes and ramshackle housing units clung like barnacles to the belly of a huge whale. Refugee’s came here in droves, they called it the city of renewal, of hope: _Lion City_.

     It was also safe because it was a moving city. Everyday a wormhole would open, and the Castle and its tumbledown little town would move to a new corner of the universe. They attracted new settlers and lost refugees at every port and thus Lion City kept expanding.

     Keith flew low over the gravity dome surrounding several stories of shaky looking houses made of anything their inhabitants could get their hands on. Here and there were flourishing rooftop gardens, trees and even the odd flower patch.

     It looked like a healthy migrant camp, but Keith had seen darker things in the deeper belly of Lion City. Things he didn’t like to talk to Allura about.

     Brushing the edge of a temporal field set up around a port entry Keith reluctantly hailed Pidge. It was time to take his medicine and he knew it. They would be angry he didn’t contact base as soon as the arena games were over.

    Hunk was probably worried to the point of biting his nails and any food within a hundred yards.

     Keith hailed Pidge’s frequency again and finally got an answer. His comm buzzed angrily and a peeved, little voice came out of the speaker.

     “Well look who lived. You couldn’t call a bit sooner?  I was halfway done with your eulogy. Wanna hear a sample? Here lies Keith, he was so dumb he-”

     “I-look Pidge I’m sorry. I don’t have time for sarcasm just-just let me in ok?”

     There was an uneasy pause over the comm before Pidge answered.

     “What’s the magic word?”

     Keith massaged the bridge of his nose trying to remember whose turn it was to create the password. It struck him that Hunk was next in rotation and he sighed his voice muffled by his shirt.

     “Truffle Oil.”

     “Roger. Free to approach. Bay is open.”

      “Good. Tell Coran to bring a stretcher. I have an injured um…passenger with me.”

      “Oh awesome! You got Ry-“

       Keith slammed the comm channel closed before Pidge could finish and turned to look briefly over his shoulder at the Omega. He had put a strap over the guys head, so his neck would stay stationary, but he could see the guys naturally tan skin was heading towards mottled grey. The Om’s lips were turning an unnatural shade of blue which was undoubtedly connected to the fact that he was barely breathing.

      Keith scowled.

     “Hey…don’t die.”

      Nudging the Om with his shoulder Keith heard a whoosh of stale air leave his lungs. Tears built in the corners of the Omega’s half-opened eyes and dribbled down his cheeks. The Om was moving his lips like he was speaking, his mouth forming soundless words. Keith was just relieved to get a response; a response meant he wasn’t dead yet.

      Pulling the shuttle into the waiting bay door Keith landed and was unsurprising to see Shiro waiting for him. He stood ramrod straight with his arms crossed, his eyes wide with worry.

    Hunk trotted up next to him with Coran and a stretcher in tow; they were all out of breath.  

     Pidge was absent. She had probably alerted the entire castle the minute she got a ping on Keith’s shuttle. It was a long trek from the general living area to the main bay where Keith had landed, and the others had gotten a head start on her.

      Pulling in smoothly Keith took a deep breath to calm his nerves, tapping the steering wheel as he popped the front of the shuttle open.

     The voices accosted him all at once and instantaneously.

     “Why didn’t you contact us!?”

     “We were worried sick! “

     “I gave you _explicit_ instructions about- “

      Keith could see the exact moment the smell in the shuttle hit Shiro and Hunk. Shiro visibly shuddered, moving backwards while Hunk blanched to the point of near vomiting. Coran, who could smell none of the Omega’s disgusting fumes, simply stared at his companions in confusion.

      Reaching behind him Keith undid the rudimentary buckles and braces he had made out of rope and cord and gestured for Coran to come closer.

     “So. Ryou was dead. Larmina too. Or so they said. None of the blue paladin picks you sent me for were even there…I’m sorry Shiro. I –I did the best I could.”

      Covering his nose with his prosthetic hand Shiro blinked at Keith in confusion.

     “What? I…Keith what did you..”

     Coran clucked his tongue sympathetically when he saw the limp Omega in the back of Keith’s shuttle. Putting out a gloved hand reverently he pushed a swathe of lank, filthy hair from the Omega’s forehead and took him in. A smile spread across the old Altean’s face and it looked to Keith like he was falling in love with a newborn puppy.

     Grinning at Keith through his moustache Coran nodded towards the Om curiously.

     “Who’s this then?”

    “Well I won so…I-I got somebody out.”

     Putting gentle hands under the Om’s head Coran tried to maneuver him onto the weightless stretcher floating after him. Shiro ran to help without thinking still blinking down in confusion at the kid in his arms.

    “You, Keith. Is this a- “

     “Omega? Yeah, pit Omega. He was in the cage during the game. They only let me take him because he was dying.”

     Hunk was looking at Keith in awe his lower lip wobbling as tears started to build in his eyes.

    “Keith that was so cool of you dude.”

     Shrugging bitterly Keith couldn’t bring himself to look at the Om as he was finally settled onto the stretcher. He was so light his weight barely registered.

       Shiro spoke carefully.

     “Keith. I don’t know if this was a good idea.”

      Coran was already ahead of the small group the stretcher keeping pace beside him as he broke into a brisk jog. Hunk held back with Shiro and Keith who kept to a fast walk.

     Keith bowed his head ashamed as he answered his superior.    

     “I-I’m sorry Shiro.”

      “They didn’t have any Betas? Maybe an even-tempered B-Alpha? I understand you couldn’t get the exact people, that was a long shot, but- he’s an _Omega_ and not even…I mean he was a _pit dog_.”

      Everything Shiro said only reflected the insecurities that Keith was feeling. He had brought a stranger into the castle and he had brought what amounted to a different species into the family group. He had failed.

     Hunk put a hand on Keith’s shoulder and looked at Shiro without flinching.

     “Hey. He did the right thing. That guy is in rough shape, he doesn’t look like he could hurt anybody. I don’t care what letter of the Greek alphabet he is, he needs help and like…fifty hot meals. He looks like a chicken-bone sculpture with skin on it.”

     Shiro stared down the long hallway as they made steady progress towards the infirmary.

     “Keith. I understand why you didn’t leave him but you put your life in jeopardy to try and find us a _paladin_ …not a-“

     “Whew! What STINKS.”

     Pidge was standing in the hall near the infirmary her sleeve over her nose as she watched Coran hurry past. He managed a brief pat on her head as he made his way towards the door at the end of the hall.

     “Company number four!  Do you happen to know where the Princess is at the moment?”

      Pidge nodded still keeping her sleeve pinned tight to her face.

      “The bridge, she was talking to some tradesperson from the city…”

     “Go quick like a Barweloa and fetch her for me, will you?”

     “Uh…alright.”

     Walking backwards a few steps Pidge nearly ran into Hunk and her disgusted expression only grew worse when she got a whiff of Keith.

     “Oh gross you smell bad too. That is RANK Keith.”

     Keith shrugged. He had been marinating in his own stink so long in the shuttle he had almost gone nose-blind to it. He knew that pheromones and Alpha blood were still stuck to his clothes but there wasn’t anything he could do about that until after a full debriefing.

     “Just go get Allura like Coran asked ok?”

      Pidge did so reluctantly casting a suspicious glance at Coran before she went back the way she had come.

     Shiro gave Keith a look that said “we aren’t done discussing this” but let the conversation drop as they came into the infirmary. Keith felt his stomach flop over when he saw the healing tubes were all full. Each pod currently held a refugee and his anxiety flared as he wondered how long the Omega would have to wait.

       Coran didn’t seem to notice his worries. The Altean was already cutting the Om’s ragged excuse for clothing from his body tutting and talking to himself as he pulled it off in shreds.

     Keith quirked his head and watched over his shoulder curiously. He could tell the Omega was scarred just from the little white cuts on his face but he was outright shocked by the amount of cruel lines covering his shoulders and back.

     The Om gave a silent whimper and Coran took a moment to shush him stroking his greasy hair with a kind hand. Hunk held back nervously and Shiro seemed rooted to the spot eyes round. Coran moved the Om carefully and it gasped for air reaching out past him with a shaking hand.

     Keith watched impassively arms folded. He felt his face contort in disbelief when it became apparent the pit dog was reaching towards him. Coran examined the inflamed wound on the Omega’s stomach but paused when he noticed his thrashing had a focus. Looking over his shoulder he grinned at Keith.

     “Taken a fancy to you hasn’t he!”

      Keith grunted.

     “He probably just recognizes my smell.”

     Coran reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out an assortment of glass bottles sloshing with multi-colored liquid.

     “Well it must be comforting for him to gravitate towards you in an unfamiliar place.”

       Keith turned up his nose, very literally, at that. He smelled like a flaming garbage heap. If these were the scents an Omega liked exterminating them was the best thing the Empire ever did.

      Coran didn’t notice his disgust, he spoke to the room at large as he sorted through the salves he intended to use.

     “It’s become a crowd in here and I doubt the poor boy needs this many looky-loos. Shiro why don’t you go clean up Keith’s shuttle, Hunk? Isn’t it about dinner hour? Shouldn’t you start cooking? Once Allura gets here me and Keith should be enough to look after our new guest.”

     Shiro looked at a loss for just a moment his eyes trailing from Coran to Keith then back to Keith again.

      “Coran…don’t get too attached. We can’t keep a wild animal in the castle. It was good of Keith to rescue him. I probably would have caved to the same temptation, but the mission and Voltron come first.”

     Coran’s shoulders stiffened, and Keith was sure he was going to have some sort of sharp comeback. He was surprised when the Altean simply shook his head and pointed towards the sink.

     “Keith m’lad. Go on over and fill up a bowl with warm water. Need to clean off some of this grime before I get into the real dirty work of disinfecting.”

     By the time Keith had filled a basin and found a clean towel Shiro and Hunk had left and Princess Allura had joined Coran. They conversed in low voices before she turned her attention to Keith. 

     “Shiro seems quite shaken by such a kind act. I’m not a human so I can’t say I understand his reluctance but I don’t think you’ve done anything bad Keith. I am saddened our latest attempt at finding a paladin for the Blue Lion has ended this way, but I do not blame you.”

      The speech sounded like she had rehearsed it on the way over and all Keith could manage was a quiet nod in reply.

       The Omega was struggling again, despite his degenerating condition he kept trying to push himself up. Allura cooed to him gently as she convinced him to lay back down.

      Coran hummed thoughtfully.

     “Princess I had an idea that we could try the incubator since the healing pods are all in use. Do you think you could bring it up for me?”

      Allura clapped her hands scurrying to another console.

     “What a good idea Coran!”

     The advisor took a moment to preen pulling at his mustache.

    “I have one every cycle or so.”

     Keith had no idea what was going on, but he took a small step towards the Omega. It was almost completely stripped to the skin and the more Coran scrubbed at the dirt the more scars started to appear. The smell of the prison and the pit lingered but wasn’t as strong and Keith quirked his head to the side reaching out a hand to take the one still reaching for him.

     The Omega calmed immediately all the spastic, instinctual movements it seemed to be making going still, the long limbs going limp.

     Coran’s soft smile turned sad.

     “That’s the ticket lad. Bit of comfort never goes amiss.”

      The Altean moved a hand down the Omega’s legs looking for breaks and damage and stopped cold when he came to his feet. Keith followed his hard gaze and felt a bit nauseous when he saw what had made Coran pause.

     The Om’s big toe was missing on both feet. Keith could see where it had been amputated and cauterized, the badly healed flesh pink and angry. He swallowed hard as he spoke.

     “Why would they do that…”

      Coran’s usual peppy voice took on a dark tone as he answered.

     “Empire does that to slaves sometimes. Bipedal species like humans and Alteans can walk without that toe, hobble about well enough, but they can’t run.”

      Keith squeezed the Om’s hand a little harder and averted his eyes as Coran pulled the last of the grubby, pit rags off with a rough yank. He looked into the Om’s face tracing the tears still spilling from his closed eyes. He was shaking and sweating at once, a miserable combination of hot and cold. The vice that first started squeezing Keith’s heart in the prison closed another notch.

      Coran finished cleaning the Om as best he could and very delicately dressed him in one of the beige pod-suits that aided healing. Keith helped slip it over the broad scarred shoulders trying not to look at the exposed ribs and sunken stomach.

      Allura made a pleased noise in the back of her throat and at the far edge of the infirmary, beyond the populated healing pods, something rose from the floor with a muted hiss of air.

     “Here we are Coran. There should be space enough for him if we curl his legs slightly. It shouldn’t affect the healing process.”

     The circular object that rose from the infirmary floor looked a bit like a large, metal basket. It was round, about the size of a twin bed, and its innards were lined with soft foam pads; like a kiddie pool lined with comforters.

      With utmost care Coran lifted the Omega into his arms and walked him over to the bizarre device. The Om’s desperate grip on Keith’s hand slipped away but by now he seemed too far gone to notice.

      Leaning down in cautious increments Coran lay the pit dog into the soft interior. Keith tried not to sound apprehensive when he spoke; he failed miserably.

     “What is that thing? Is he going to be ok?”

       Allura offered him a wide reassuring smile.

     “Oh yes! The healing pods can be a bit intense for newborns or children so we have this incubator for younger creatures. If we turn it to its highest setting then it should be enough to heal our guest. It works on much the same principle as the pods but is gentler on growing bodies.”

     “Oh.”

       Keith moved to stand next to Coran and watched as a thin pane of the same safety-glass used in the healing pods slid over the top of the incubator basket. The Omega was curled up tight-safe and comfortable. he lay on his side with his knees tucked up to his chest and his arms lax, sprawled in front of him.

      Reading from a flashing readout screen Coran began to recite a list of the Om’s injuries.

     “Mmm, hairline fractures in his right wrist, two broken ribs…The most damage seems to be internal; bleeding in the stomach and around the liver. His larynx is bruised and there is a build-up of scar tissue causing problems, most likely from being left untreated. I’m afraid the missing toes and cut vocal cords can’t be healed now but we could find a potential prosthetic solution to both.”

      Coran put his hands behind his back eyebrows lowered.

     “I’m sure our green and yellow paladins would be up to the challenge.”

       The cut vocal cords weren’t a surprise but the revelation still hurt Keith more then he wanted to admit. He shook his head slowly.

     “How long before he’s better? Maybe if Pidge starts now we can finish it when he gets out. Sooner we get it done the sooner he can move on.”

      The Alteans both turned to stare at him and Allura in particular did not look pleased by his question.

     “You brought him here out of unimaginably cruel conditions paladin. This is _my_ home. He is here and is now _my_ responsibility as much as you and the others. He will stay as long as he wishes. He will live here and be a part of the castle as long as it takes him to heal.”

      Keith felt his cheeks heat and he bowed his head slightly unsure how he could explain what a bad idea this was. He had brought him here, so he wouldn’t die and that had probably been a mistake, even if it was one he didn’t regret.

     Alteans didn’t understand earth or the mentality of a pack unit. True, humans themselves lost most of their own history after the Empire took over… but he felt like he was a better equipped to make this decision than a clueless Altean royal.

      “I did something impulsive Princess and I don’t want the team to suffer because of it. Shiro...he’ll explain better than I can.”

    Keith gazed down at the Omega in the incubator, watching as the lights on the edges of the machine flared in and out in a steady, slow rhythm. It looked like they were imitating a giant heartbeat. The pit dog, Mutt, moved almost imperceptibly, his thin sides rising and falling in time to the pulsing light.

     “I seriously doubt Shiro can sway me in this Keith. I will stand firm by my decision as I’m sure Coran will. Now-go take a shower and change before you debrief the group. My sense of smell may be dull compared to the paladins but even _I_ can smell you.”

 

 

     “So we’re keeping him right? As like a pet?”

     Keith glared at Pidge across the rec room and sighed through his nose. The green paladin was typing away at her laptop, grinning like a maniac as she did so.

     “No. He’s just going to stay until he’s better.”

     Hunk looked up from a shirt he was trying to patch up for the Omega once he was out of the incubator pod. He wasn’t great when it came to sewing but he was the best of the group.

     “Pidge. He’s not a dog.”

     She snorted spewing spit onto her computer screen.

     “Whatever that’s not what I heard.”

     Hunk looked at her deadpan.

      “Yeah? So tell us all you know about Omega’s then. Grace us with your knowledge.”

       Pidge leaned back hands behind her head. She interlaced her fingers in her hair and stretched until her back popped.

     “Matt once told me that if you throw a quarter or something shiny in front of one they have to pick it up. They’re like magpies, they love shiny stuff.”

      Hunk started to laugh, and Keith couldn’t help but crack a smile.

      “Bullshit. What else?”

      “If you punch one in the face they have to do whatever you say and if you scare them they spray ink like an octopus.”

      “Double bullshit. Your brother is so full of it.”

     Hunk snickered examining another hole he had found in the old blue and white shirt.

     “My mom always told me they were super fragile but super gentle. You shouldn’t startle them or make loud noises because they get scared easily.”

      Pidge looked at Hunk over her glasses.

     “You sure your mom wasn’t talking about you?”

       Hunk’s offended look broke Keith and he tried to hold back laughter as he added to the conversation.

     “Kavlov told me he went to a scent farm once. He said they were all wandering around like cows waiting to be milked. He said if they get feisty you just bop them on the nose and they go down for the count.”

     Pidge put her laptop to the side and flopped down on her part of the sofa swinging her legs over the back.

    “You’re gonna believe Kavlov? The Sigarthin “human expert” who once asked if my tongue was feeling awake?”

     “I won’t say I _don’t_ believe him.”

     Pidge contemplated the ceiling carefully and finally said.

    “I heard they have two butts.”

      Keith almost choked on his own spit while Hunk raised both arms in the air in consternation.

      “Pidge! Come ON you’re supposed to be smart!”

      Pidge shrugged against the couch cushions.

     “Well I guess I’m just gonna have to keep a record on this guy. Make sure he only has a single butt.”

    “You’re going to leave him alone Is what you’re going to do.”

     Keith turned his head as Shiro walking through the nearest door looking pale and exhausted.    

     He folded his arms taking in the three of them. He let his gaze drift from Hunk to Pidge and finally to Keith.

     “Here’s what you need to know. Omega’s are dangerous. They are manipulative, and they can coerce you. There’s a reason the Empire controls them and destroys those it can’t control. They can use smell against you and use the chemicals in your own brain to influence you. A year as a pit fighter taught me all I need to know about them…”

      He rubbed at his face and offered Keith a hollow smile.

     “I know that you only had the one meeting in the pit and I know you rescued him because it felt like the right thing to do but… sometimes a good deed can come back to bite you.”

     Keith felt his guts roll like he had been punched and he scowled at his legs, face burning. He thought again about the scared Alpha in the pit but this time he approached the memory from a different angle. Something had been bothering him since he had seen the scars on the Om in the infirmary. Something he hadn’t considered before.

     “Shiro I know I haven’t been around them as much as you but, in the pit…aren’t the Om’s just protecting themselves? I mean it’s an instinct right?”

      Shiro said nothing and Keith kept his body loose, non-threatening as his leader responded tersely.

     “Keith, I know it can seem that way…but. Look, all I’m asking is that you be careful around him. Coran and Allura will even be affected in subtle ways. Question your actions and don’t let him get the upper-hand.”

     Hunk leaned forward trying to speak firmly but soothingly.

     “Shiro, I’m with Keith I think you might be a bit, um, _bias_. Omegas deserve a chance like the rest of us right? Nobody is an angel here.”

      Shiro cringed unhappily, his posture becoming ridged and defensive. Pidge reached out a hand towards him cautiously.

     “Besides if we learn how to milk him then we can use his scent or even sell- “

     “NO.”

     Everyone straightened when the black paladin raised his voice and even Shiro seemed to startle himself. He shook his head at Pidge and moved a step backwards.

     “Don’t Pidge. Just do what I’m asking. Be careful around him. _Please_.”

      Keith tried not to let his voice come out too sulky but failed. Shiro was in charge and his word was law as far as the family was concerned.

     “Yes sir.”

 

 

 


End file.
